Absent Without Leave
by kathiann
Summary: A post series, post RJ, three chapter fic for the Jello Forever February Challenge 'Love Songs'. I think of this as the anti-prompt. Kind of angsty, but it's got a happyish ending, you've just got to hang with me.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **We're going with a post-series kind of fic. Not sure it fits the prompt, but it was running around my head when I heard the song "Who's That Man" by Toby Keith on the radio, and this is what came of it. For this to work in my mind we need to mess with the time line and make them all a bit younger than they really are. You don't have to do this; I just think it works better this way. Special thanks to lgmtreader for betaing for me. Trust me, you don't want to read when I've not had a beta look over it first.

**Disclaimer: **I was just watching the music video for the song that inspired this and realized that Toby Kieth from way back when looks a bit like my ex. I'm never going to be able to look at him again. So sad. I'm pretty sure if I owned the song I would have realized that a long time ago. Oh, and I don't own the show either.

**Absent Without Leave**

He hadn't meant for it to end this way, honestly he hadn't. They'd been so happy together. He never thought that he would be able to move on after Red John. He'd thought that it would be the end of him, that he would either end up dead or in jail. It was a surprise then when Cho and Rigsby had come busting through the door as he was staring down his nemesis, guns blazing to take down Red John. Somehow he managed not to get hit…

She hadn't said it, but he knew that it was _her_ who had given the order to them to come in. They'd been walking the line between friend, colleague and something _more_ for almost a year at that point. With Red John gone – and with him feeling surprisingly NOT as bad about the way it went down as he'd thought he would be – he was able to take a step over the line to something more with little hesitation.

The ceremony had been small and quiet. He didn't have any family, and hers was small, so it was mostly just the team who was there. They had it up in the mountains, in the same town where they'd realized that there might be something more to their relationship than just boss and consultant.

His smile was bittersweet as he thought of the case that had brought them to that town, a kidnapping that hit a little too close to home for both of them. They'd loved that town even after seeing the seething underbelly that small town life could be. After the wedding they bought a house there, to vacation in at first, though they didn't take much vacation time in the beginning. It was an older farm house, needed a lot of work that they hired out to one of the locals, situated on almost 2 and a half acres of land.

The first baby was as much as a surprise as his reaction to the ending of the Red John case had been. They hadn't planned it, but it wasn't unwelcome. She had worked up until the day she'd gone into labor, two weeks early, despite his protests. The second was less of a surprise, but a harder pregnancy, and she was on bed rest for the last three months.

After their little Juliet and Michael had been born they had talked about changing jobs, moving from the city. They spent more and more time up in the country, out in their house at the end of the dirt road. He'd been spending more and more time with the children and wasn't at work the day the suspect pulled a gun and started shooting, wanting to take as many cops with him as he could.

Twelve hours in surgery and 6 weeks later she wasn't in the CBI anymore, by choice. They'd both had a brief glimpse of what life could be like without her in it and had no desire to live it for real. They'd moved into their house shortly after, deciding to raise their kids there. When the position of sheriff came open two years later she didn't think twice before applying and wasn't really surprised when she got the job.

He still worked as a consultant for the CBI and other law enforcement agencies. It was one of those cases that finally broke him, broke them. They were on vacation in San Francisco, visiting her brother and seeing the sights. The kids were 6 and 4 and were having a blast with their father and mother just sightseeing and enjoying time away from the pressures of life, when Jane got a call. Just a quick consult with the CBI, for their good friend Cho, for old times' sake. He couldn't say no, even though there wasn't supposed to be work on this vacation, and he'd gone, off to save the day in some other city, close but still not with them.

What was supposed to be an afternoon turned into a day, then a week, and then his family had gone home while he was still there, trying to find the man who was killing families in their sleep with no apparent pattern or care. He was still there a month later when they got a break and Jane had gone with Cho to apprehend the suspect. He couldn't let it go; he had to see who this man was that had eluded him like no man had since Red John. He'd been the first in the room, had cornered him, used more force than he needed to… and then found out that it wasn't the right man after all.

She came to see him the next day; telling him he needed to come home, put some distance between him and the case and maybe it would become clear to him – but he couldn't, wouldn't let it go. He had to find him; had to find the monster.

They'd fought; she accusing him of throwing all care to the wind and only caring about the job, and he accusing her of no longer caring about justice, no longer caring if other people got injured so long as she was ok, as long as her world wasn't affected. He'd left her standing in that hallway, tears streaming down her face as she wept silently. He'd gotten a call from Juliet that night, and one from Michael the next day; but he couldn't talk to them, couldn't bear to be the disappointment he knew he must be to them, hurting their mother like that.

It had taken two years of missed holidays, no phone calls, and thoughts of revenge running through his head before he realized what he was doing. Apparently he hadn't gotten over not having the chance for revenge on Red John for the death of his first family after all. He knew that he should have gone home when there was a lull in the case, but the pull was too strong, and the words that they had exchanged too painful. He knew that Cho kept in touch, tried to push the subject a time or two, but he always pushed back, refused to talk about it, acted like he knew what he was doing. He knew that all he had to do was say the word and he could go home, but he didn't feel worthy anymore to be a husband and father, not when he'd failed, not just one family, but two.

He lay there in the grungy hotel room, a cheap pay-by-the-month dive, and thought about the cards that had come so steadily at first, but had tapered off and then stopped completely. He remembered the last one and the note she'd written inside:

_My love,  
I will always love you and be here if you want to come back. The kids miss you; __**I**__ miss you. I don't know why you felt you had to do this, but it's killing me, and I know it's hurting you, even I you won't admit it. Come home, please.  
Yours forever_

It had been almost 9 months since he'd gotten that card, and he hadn't called or written or anything. He wondered what she'd told the kids when he'd stopped answering their calls, when he didn't call for their birthdays or Christmas. He felt like a bastard, felt like the lowest form of pond scum. He didn't know why he'd done it, but he'd just felt like a failure to them, and now, he really was. He had abandoned his family, abandoned the woman he loved, his children…

The next day he walked into Cho's office and told him he needed help. He needed to get out and he was having issues. He'd always heard that the first step to solving your problem was admitting you had one, and this seemed the best way to do it.

Cho had given him a look that clearly read, "No shit" before sitting him down in a chair and telling him what had been going on in his wife's and children's lives for the past two years. School plays and sports competitions. Juliet had become quite the softball player and had traveled to the state competition right there in San Francisco, one of the calls _he_ hadn't taken. Michael was the smartest kid in his class, having skipped over kindergarten; apparently he'd inherited his dad's slightly quirky intelligence.

Then Cho told him about how she'd been doing since he'd been so consumed in his misplaced revenge. She'd started keeping horses; the local man that had been hired all those years ago to fix up their house had been the one to help her with that. She'd kept working as the sheriff, and had taken an active interest in programs at the high school for kids who wanted to be cops, giving them a chance to go on patrols through the county and find out what it was like in the saddle, even sending a few of them to work internships with Cho.

He'd sat there while Cho told him exactly what it was that he'd missed for the past two years and how close he was to losing it completely. "_A woman can only hold on so long, man," _Cho'd said before kicking him out of the office with the offer of a ride to the country in the morning. But this was something he needed to do himself.

He'd not had his car when they came on vacation; he'd gotten the first car he'd come across for sale on the street. It was an older beater of a pickup that he wasn't even sure would make it up the mountainside, but he was going to try anyway. He didn't wait; he had to start out that night. He had to see her, to tell her that he had been wrong, that he was sorry for leaving her like that, to beg her to give him a second chance.

He drove without stopping for anything other than gas and to pee, and made it there in record time. The town looked the same in the early morning light as it had the last time he'd seen it; the trees were a little larger, but that was the only discernable difference.

He followed the well-worn road towards their house, noticing that it had been paved; something that they'd been pushing for when he'd left. He slowed as he got closer, not as sure about his plans now as he had been before. As he got closer he saw his old blue car still sitting in the driveway, looking freshly washed and as clean as it had the day they'd left for vacation.

He smiled slightly as he saw the kids come out of the house, backpacks on and lunch boxes in their hands, followed by Spot the Dog, a lovable mutt that they had rescued as a puppy from the swollen creek one winter after they'd moved in full-time. He was about to pull the car up and get out when he saw _her_ come out of the house with someone else. A man, someone that he knew. The man who was helping her with the horses.

His chest grew tight; it couldn't be, he couldn't be too late… Cho would have told him if it was hopeless, wouldn't he? He pulled into the driveway of the house across the street, pausing for a second to look over his shoulder. They hadn't seemed to notice, and other than Spot barking at the truck, no one even noticed the strange truck on this small lane. He watched as the other man put his arms around _his _wife and threw the truck into reverse; he couldn't watch it. He couldn't watch as the best thing that had even happened to him moved on with her life without him and took his children with him. He just couldn't bear to see it.

_Turn left at the old Hotel/I know this boulevard much too well  
It hasn't changed since I been gone/Oh, this used to be my way home_

_They paved the road thru the neighborhood/I guess the county finally fixed good  
It was getting rough/Someone finally complained enough_

_Fight the tears back with a smile/Stop and look for a little while  
Oh it's plain to see/The only thing missing is me_

_That's my house and that's my car/That's my dog in my backyard  
There's the window to the room/Where she lays her pretty head  
I planted that tree out by the fence/Not long after we moved in  
That's my kids and that's my wife/Who's that man, runnin my life_

_If I pulled in would it cause a scene/They're not really expecting me  
Those kids have been thru hell/I hear they adjusted well_

_Turn around in the neighbor's drive/I'd be hard to recognize  
In this pick-up truck/It's just an old fixer up_

_Drive away one more time/Lot of things going thru my mind  
I guess the less things change/The more they never seem the same_

_That's my house and that's my car/That's my dog in my back yard  
There's the window to the room/Where she lays her pretty head  
I planted that tree out by the fence/Not long after we moved in  
That's my kids and that's my wife/Who's that man, runnin my life_

_Toby Keith- "Who's That Man"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors' Note: **I'm sooooo sorry it's taken me this long to update. And i even had it written! School kids, life, insert pathetic excuse here. On the bright side, my college now has a psych club, it's mid terms, and this is still going to have a happyish ending :) That however isn't done all the way, so it will be a few days before that happens. However, I've got a huge project due tomorrow that I haven't started yet, and well....yeah. Anyway, have no fear, my beat, lgmtreader, is hounding me as we speak to do two things, my homework and my writing. I've got to get the homework done so I can get the stories out of my head.

**Disclaimer: **No, not mine. Though, I'm sure that's a well established fact at this point.

**Absent With Out Leave-2**

Teresa woke slowly, not needing her alarm to tell her it was time to get up. The sounds of the kids waking and the smell of coffee wafting up the stairs woke her every morning with plenty of time to go. That is, when she slept. A quick glance at the calendar told her what she already knew. Two years to the day since that vacation to San Francisco when Patrick had consulted on that case and never come back.

She tried to tell herself that she hadn't seen it coming, but in truth she had. It had all been so easy, his letting Red john go and coming to her. Being a happy family up here in the small town. She knew it would happen eventually, she just didn't think that it would be so many years later or when they'd had kids. She forced back the tears that always threatened early in the morning. Crying over a man who hadn't even bothered to call, who hadn't bothered to check his voicemail when they'd all been in San Francisco last summer to watch Juliet pitch a winning game in the state finals for her age. She'd sent her last card then, hoping that he'd call, or write, or come home. But he hadn't.

She knew from Cho that Patrick was still working that case, picking up consulting jobs as needed to pay for his meager expenses. She had to hand it to him, he had managed to cut himself off entirely, he hadn't even used his ATM card for their joint account once since the last time she had asked him to come home in person, since the last time she had begged him to come back and all those ugly words had been exchanged.

She sighed as she stretched and got out of bed. Sometimes she hated living in a small town. All week she'd been getting looks, but no one had said anything. They knew that this was the week that her family had taken a vacation and came back one family member shy. No one had ever bothered to ask why either, they'd just talked about it behind her back and gave her pitying looks.

Well, not everyone had done that. John hadn't. John had asked her what had happened the day she'd come home without Patrick. John had been the one to watch the kids when she went back to San Francisco two weeks later to ask Patrick to come back, and John had been there every day since then to help her out and be a moral support.

She wondered at the luck they'd had when they had hired John to fix up the house after they'd bought it. He'd been a friend ever since then. He even lived with them now, not that she needed the protection, but because he wanted to be help out and knew how much she hated having the kids hang around the station when she was at work and they got done with school.

Teresa got out of bed slowly, tears threatening again as she saw her wedding picture on her dresser. She hadn't taken any of the pictures down when it became obvious he wasn't coming back. She'd left it all the same, left the house just the same as when he'd left. Including her favorite picture from their wedding. It was a candid shot that someone had taken; she was talking off-camera to someone and Jane was watching her, and the look of adoration in his eyes made her heart melt the first time she'd seen it. Now, now it just made her heart hurt. How could he have loved her so much and then let her go so easily? Picked a mistaken sense of revenge over her love and their children.

She heard the sounds of John making breakfast and knew that she should go and make sure that the kids were up before getting ready for the day, but she didn't want to. If she could spend the day in bed she would, but knew that if she did it would just add fuel to the fire. In the past two years the talk had died down, but this week, this month, was always bad, and she didn't need to give anyone reason to talk.

Trusting her exceptionally responsible children to get themselves up and ready for school, she took her time in the shower. She let herself cry, knowing that for the next eight to nine hours she had to wear the mask that nothing was wrong, that she was the big bad sheriff in town and that her husband leaving her, not for another woman, but for another case, didn't bother her.

She was too long in the shower, but no one mentioned it to her, not today. She knew she needed to get down and see how the kids were doing. Mike had only been four when Patrick had left, and he seemed the least affected by the loss of his father. Juliet though, her emotions ran deep. She was so much like her mother, and Teresa often worried about her. She knew that Juliet had known that everything had not been right on that vacation, and that the birthday cards that had come from "Dad" were really signed by Mom.

Teresa dressed quickly, donning her police uniform today. She didn't have to wear it, but felt she needed the extra protection that it offered. People were less likely to bother her when she was wearing her uniform than when she was wearing a suit. She took a deep breath before leaving her room, hoping that no one downstairs would be able o tell that she'd been crying, that she was affected by this day more than others.

Breakfast was quick and quiet, no one talking much. Juliet and Mike had both gotten ready and ate quickly, seeming not to want to spend more time sitting at the table than needed; not usual behavior, but she wasn't going to complain. She ate slowly, and not as much as she usually would; she just didn't think she could stomach it today.

She walked into the kitchen with a still mostly full plate of food, filling up her travel mug of coffee. She looked at the one she had grabbed; it was her favorite, one that Patrick had given her for their first anniversary, a silly little gift that he had left on her desk at work. Looking at it now it just made her mad. Anger being a preferred emotion to despair, she picked it up and threw it against the refrigerator, watching as the lid popped off and the brown liquid flew all over the kitchen. The noise that her outburst caused brought John in from the other room, and he found her collapsed in a heap on the floor, sobbing and clutching the broken mug in her hand.

"Teresa, come on, it's going to be ok." He bent down, trying to comfort her, though he knew from experience that sometimes it was best just to let her cry it out. "He gave this to me for our first anniversary," she said into her arms.

"I thought he gave you that necklace you always wear." John's voice was soft and comforting; he knew how hard it had been on her when Patrick hadn't come home, and how well she hid it most days.

"He did, but this he left for me at work. He was sick of having coffee stains in his car from me taking a mug to work. So he got me this." She held up the now ruined go cup, sobbing less now that she was talking. "Sometimes I hate him so much, but other times… I keep hoping that one day I'll wake up and it will all have just been some sort of strange dream and he'll be there with me and we'll be happy like we once were."

"Hey, it could still happen. He could walk in that door right now."

"But if he did, I don't know that I'd want to see him. How could he do that to us? Leave us like that? I just… I guess I always knew it was too good to be true."

"Ah, honey, it's not that bad." She was winding down and felt the slight lightness that momentary loss of control always brought.

"Easy for you to say, you don't have to walk around town every day hearing them whisper about the hard ass bitch of a sheriff who drove her husband off."

"No, I just get to hear them wonder why it is a fine upstanding man like me doesn't date, why I'm not married yet, and that I must be banging the sheriff."

"Oh, John. I'm sorry; I always forget that not everyone in this town is ok with homosexual relationships. One day you should really give them something to talk about and have Peter come visit here for the weekend."

"Maybe later," he said, offering her a hand to pull her off the floor. "It'll get better Teresa, I promise."

"Sure it will." She brushed her pants off turning back towards the cupboard and grabbing another go mug. "Can you let the kids know that I'll be out in just a second, ok?"

She heard John mumble an OK and quickly filled the coffee mug. Grabbing her bag she headed out the door, finding John there waiting for her. She stood on the porch for a second and turned towards him. "Good luck today, call me if anyone gives you a hard time." He gave her a quick hug as the heard the sound of an engine revving and looked up to see an old truck pulling out of the neighbors drive.

"I wonder who that was," Teresa mused, as she watched the truck fade in the distance.

_I'm floating down a river  
Oars freed from their holds long ago  
Lying face up on the floor of my vessel  
I marvel at the stars/And feel my heart overflow_

_  
Further down the river/Further down the river  
Further down the river/Further down the river_

_  
Two weeks without my lover  
I'm in this boat alone  
Floating down a river named emotion  
Will I make it back to shore/Or drift into the unknown_

_Further down the river/Further down the river  
Further down the river/Further down the river_

_I'm building an antenna  
Transmissions will be sent when I am through  
Maybe we could meet again further down the river  
And share what we both discovered/Then revel in the view_

_Further down the river/Further down the river  
Further down the river/Further down the river_

_I'm floating down a river/I'm floating down a river  
I'm floating down a river/I'm floating down a river_


End file.
